


I'd Like That

by The_Gay_Infiltrator



Series: 24 Days of Fanfic for Cowgirlchica [15]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst?, I feel like this is OOC, M/M, canon divergence but only slightly, i guess, no fucking idea when this is, sorry - Freeform, sort of, the dursleys are dicks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Gay_Infiltrator/pseuds/The_Gay_Infiltrator





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cowgirlchica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowgirlchica/gifts).



Harry ran through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, already concerned about being late. He had barely managed to escape from he Dursley's combined attempt to keep him at home. Aunt Petunia had pinched him, slapped him, and denied him meals for a month, Uncle Vernon had drilled boards over Harry's door, and, on the day he had managed to break out (without using magic), Dudley had pinned him to the floor and used him as a punching bag. Now, Dudley Dursley didn't have much going for him. The only things he was good at was bullying, stuffing his face, and beating Harry to a pulp. Since he had barely eaten in a month (Ron had sent him a small box of sweets before Harry had been locked under the stairs again, but he'd only eaten five when Aunt Petunia found them), Harry was especially weak under Dudley's blows. Vernon and Petunia egged him on with vicious cheers. Eventually, with his glasses broken, his nose bleeding, and his entire body sore and bruised, Harry managed to get away from Dudley. He found himself in the driveway of Number Four, holding his trunk, which contained all his stuff needed for Hogwarts, and Hedwig's cage. After fleeing, ending up on a park bench somewhere, Harry opened his trunk and took out a parchment and quill. He sat and stared at it for a while, deliberating whether to send a note to Ron or not. Eventually, he decided against it, not wanting to worry him or make him angry at the Dursleys. He put the writing things back, and instead took out his Firebolt and his father's invisibility cloak. He tied his suitcase to his broom and hung Hedwig's cage off the end using the ring on the top. He arranged the cloak so that nothing could be seen, either of him or his luggage, and kicked off the ground. He flew across the night sky, not stopping as it turned to dawn. He hoped this would work, because if he got caught, he'd be expelled. Fortunately, he was able to land in a park quite near to King's Cross Station without being seen. He put his broomstick and cloak back into the trunk, and hurried the rest of the way to the station on foot. He stopped in a bathroom at the station to tidy himself, and he was reminded that there was still a streak of blood funning from his nose to his mouth, and his face was beginning to bruise. His glasses were also still broken. He washed the blood away, and began thinking of excuses for why his face and glasses were mangled. 

"What happened to you, Harry?" Ron asked, as soon as him, Harry, and Hermione were sitting in the compartment of the Hogwarts Express.   
"I fell down the stairs." Harry lied, hoping Ron and Hermione would buy it.   
They did, but Ron still looked a bit suspicious. They bought sweets off of the trolley, and Harry devoured many of them ravenously. "Bloody hell, Harry, you'd think you hadn't eaten in a month!" Ron joked.  
Harry laughed softly and agreed, but Ron didn't know how close he'd come to the truth.

The rest of the train ride passed uneventfully, as Malfoy and his henchmen were in an entirely different car. Finally, Hogwarts came into view, and Harry couldn't help but grin. He was home. 

Almost as soon as he entered the school, Dumbledore pulled him aside. "It has come to my attention that there is a considerable amount of animosity between the houses, particularly between Gryffindor House and Slytherin House. Therefore, the house heads and I have agreed to do a three month long student exchange program. One student from each year in each house will be chosen to become a part of another for this time, to cultivate friendship and enhance learning. Harry, I would like you to be the student for your year in Gryffindor."  
Harry could only nod. He had been looking forward to spending time with people who cared about him, but now he was an exchange student. With his luck, he'd probably have to go to Slytherin for three months. "I was thinking we'd put you with the Slytherins." Dumbledore said.   
Harry sighed. What choice did he have? Dumbledore smiled warmly and waved his wand. Harry's robes turned into Slytherin attire. "You may eat with your house for the feast, however then you will go with your new house to their dormitory. Good luck, Harry." He said.   
Harry gulped, and headed for the great hall, leaving his luggage with everyone else's. He sat down next to Ron and Hermione, very aware of the green tie adorning his neck. The Sorting had already begun. "Harry, is that a...Slytherin tie?" Ron asked incredulously.   
Everyone's head swivelled. "Dumbledore's doing a student exchange thing. A student from every year switches houses for three months."  
"And he put you in Slytherin."  
Harry nodded. "I can't tell if--"  
What Ron was about to say was interrupted by Dumbledore himself, clearing his throat at the front of the room. "Hello, students. Now, before we begin the wonderful feast, I would like to make an announcement. As some of you may already know, this year we are endeavouring to lessen the tension between the houses. Therefore, we are having a student exchange, where one student in each year from every house belongs to a different house for three months. The people exchanging houses have been or will be spoken to sometime this evening. That is all."  
The food appeared in front of them, and (as usual) a sarcastic gasp ran through the hall, except for the first years, who gasped in surprise. Harry seized food and ate like a wolf, still surprisingly ravenous after all the things he ate on the train.   
Sooner than Harry would have liked, the feast was over, and he had to go join the Slytherin as they made their way to the dungeon. Dumbledore, as if he could see the apprehension in Harry's face, came over to take him over to the Slytherins. Draco glared at him, but couldn't say anything while Dumbledore was there. The Snakes filed down the stairwell, Harry keeping well at the back. "Potestas Draconium." The Prefect said, and the rock swung open.   
They walked down even more stairs, the way lit by flickering green lights held in snake's mouths. They got to the common room, which was also illuminated by the Greene as snake lights. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Potter." Draco said, turning. "I see you're the one chosen to 'lessen the tension between the houses'." His lip curled as he mocked what Dumbledore had said earlier.   
"Listen, Malfoy, I like it just as much as you do." Harry snapped.   
(Draco actually liked it quite a bit, as he had been crushing on Harry for some time). "I seriously doubt that. Whatever." he sneered, turning on his heel, "The dormitory is this way, since you are obviously unable to locate it."  
Harry followed awkwardly, aware of all the eyes on him as he walked down the staircase at the left of the room. He followed the blond into a dimly-lit room with five four poster beds, all hung with green velvet and silver trim. His bed (of fucking course) was next to Draco's. Harry was just glad that the next day was Saturday. He didn't think he was ready to deal with lessons with Draco. He waited until the other four boys had left, before quickly changing into pyjamas and climbing into bed. His body ached, he hadn't slept in two days, and somehow he was still hungry. He was asleep faster than he could say 'Quidditch'.  
Draco came in hours later, and stopped to look at Harry, who had clearly tossed and turned. His glasses were still broken. Draco fixed them, and then immediately reprimanded himself mentally. Why did he do that? Harry rolled over, and Draco jumped backwards, thinking Harry had woken up. When he deemed that Harry was still asleep, he came closer again. His eyes caught on the stretch of Harry's back that had been exposed by Harry's latest shift. Draco saw just a hint of purple, ringed by yellow, peeking out from under the shirt. Was it a bruise? Why was Potter bruised?  
Draco was about to lift the shirt to check if he was right when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He quickly busied himself with changing, and was under the covers by the time the two others got there. 

Harry woke after all the Slytherins but Malfoy had left, haunted by dreams where the Dursleys turned into Voldemort's supporters and all cast the killing spell on him, only this time it worked. There was nothing but the cold rush of death and then he sat up with a gasp. He sighed and picked up his glasses. They were fixed. Harry wondered to himself who had mended them. He wasn't exactly popular in Slytherin. He got his clothes and pulled off his pyjama shirt, facing away from Draco. "Are those bruises, Potter?" Malfoy asked, grey eyes flicking from where they had been lazily hovering, half-closed, to fully open.   
Harry quickly turned around, covering his chest with his shirt to hide the bruises there as well. "Why would Potter have bruises?" Draco mused as he sat up.   
"They're not bruises." Harry lied, definitely not wanting Draco to find out about his life with the Dursleys.   
"Sure, Potter. And Granger isn't a Mudblood."  
Harry bristled at the comment. Draco eyed the edge of a bruise peeking out from where he was holding his shirt to cover it. "Potter," Draco said, narrowing his eyes. "Why are you bruised?"  
Harry considered telling the truth for a moment, then decided against it. "I fell down the stairs." He said simply, pulling the shirt down over his head.   
As he did this, Draco was able to get a complete view of all the bruising. You could see Harry's ribs, he was so skinny, and dark purple patches were scattered very close together all over his chest. "You don't get that bruised by just falling down the stairs, Potter. Not unless you're the clumsiest person alive. Which you aren't, although you are a very close second."  
Harry blinked at him. Draco was seeing through him so easily. It was surprising how much he'd thought about Draco over the break, at first, but then as it went on Harry had come to realize it was possible he liked him. Part of Harry wanted to tell Draco about his problems, but the rest of him warned that Draco would probably mock him. 'Ickle Potter, raised by Muggles who beat him. Poor, poor Potter, living under the stairs. Saint Potter, starved and not allowed to see his friends.' "Potter." Draco snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face. "Potter."  
"It's nothing. Why do you care, anyway?"  
"Because, Potter..." here Draco paused, trying to think of an excuse, "...because you're representing the Slytherins now and we can't have you bruised."  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't exactly explain why you want to know HOW I got bruised."   
"Course it does."  
"It doesn't."  
"It does."  
"Doesn't."  
"Does."   
"Doesn't."  
"Fine, Potter."  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Does this mean you'll tell me why you actually want to know?"  
"Only if you tell me how."  
"You first."  
"Why me, Potter? Why not you?"   
Harry started to glare at Draco, but stopped. "Come on, Malfoy, sit down. It's a long story."  
Draco was a bit shocked at this sudden change of heart, but sat down in the spot Harry indicated. "Alright, Potter, spill. Why are you bruised?"  
Harry sighed. "When my parents died, I had to go live with my Muggle aunt and uncle. They hate magic, and everything to do with it, so obviously they hated me as well. I didn't even know magic was a thing until I got my Hogwarts letter. I lived...."  
"Go on, Potter." Draco prompted.   
"...they made me live in a cupboard under the stairs. I was nothing more than a freak, to make them meals and do their chores."  
Draco's eyes widened. "Really?"  
Harry nodded, a little sadly. "They hate the entire idea of the school and keep coming up with increasingly ridiculous ways to keep me at home. This year they nailed boards across the door to keep me in, and starved me so if I broke out it'd be easier to get me back in.."  
Did Harry really live like this? When he was so bloody gorgeous, and smart, and good at Quidditch? "If you don't want to..." Draco said, really tempted to grab Harry's hand for support.  
"No, it's fine. I did manage to get out, without magic, and then Dudley - that's my cousin - started punching me. I had barely eaten in a month - not that that isn't usual, of course - but I somehow managed to get away from him, get my stuff, and leave. I flew to King's Cross that night, and then the rest you know."  
Draco's eyes flicked across Harry's face, the bruises there, his chest, the bruises he knew were there, to his glasses, which had been broken until he fixed them, as he wondered what to say in response to that. Harry closed his eyes, as if waiting for a jibe or a jeer from him. Draco hated himself for acting like that so much that Harry would expect it from him. He laid a hand on top of Harry's and gave a gentle squeeze. "Do you want me to tell you why I wanted to know, Potter?"  
Harry looked from the hand covering his own to Draco's face, where the mask he usually kept up was slipping and concern was shining in his grey eyes. "Yes," he said eventually. "I'd like that."  
Draco considered how best to say it, because 'I've always loved you and cared about you' didn't quite seem appropriate. "Merlin, this is so hard to say.." he muttered to himself.   
"Potter," he looked down at their hands. "It's just - kind of - I care about you, alright?   
Harry blinked at him in shock. Now it was Draco's turn to wonder if a ridicule or a mean comment was coming. "You're serious?"  
"Of course I'm bloody serious, Potter!"  
Harry grabbed Draco's tie and kissed him. 

"You know what, Potter?" Draco said between kisses, as they lay there on Harry's bed, "I'd like this to be the start of something."  
"Yeah," Harry said, smiling softly at Draco. "I'd like that too."


End file.
